blue-rose14164

“…Licorice!”                The delicious candy was calling your name, so you grabbed your bike and rode the few blocks down to your favorite Nordic themed restaurant. The kind of licorice you were craving was special and directly imported from Iceland, and the only place that would import it was this place.                  Arriving, you hopped off your bike and tethered it to a nearby bike rack. Looking up at the sign hung directly above, on the moderately sized building, you mused yourself with reading the different names of the restaurant. You figured that the owners had agreed on a name for the restaurant, but could

        Ok, this is  kinda like a game. There are going to be blanks in the story and you'll have to figure out the place or person I'm talking about based on what is described. You will need a world map with Longitude and Latitude lines on it. If you don't feel like playing or want to see if you were right, the answer key is in the description. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                You were sitting in your home, calmly sipping tea in the beautiful city of 1.___________, the capital city of your home country located at 60 N 15 E, when your friend Mathias burst through the door. By burst, we mea

"... Panna Cotta!"    You couldn't help but be excited as you skipped on over to the new Italian restaurant on the corner. Waltzing right through the front door, you couldn't help but smirk as you walked up to the host stand. The host was standing there with a stupid grin, but he was pretty cute. Shoving off your attraction, you asked for a table for one, which he led you to almost a bit too happily. As you sat down and took the menu from him, you caught him staring at the clock on a nearby wall.    "Shift almost over?" You asked nonchalantly.    "Sì! How can you tell?" The blondes voice was filled with cheer and his right-facing

"....Butter!"    You stopped for a minute. 'Butter? Well, it wont earn me any points with a dietitian, but I'm game.' You then walked to the grocery store right next to your apartment. It was a small, but nice, store. It had just enough space for the necessities and then some. You opened the heavy glass door and sped all the way to the dairy section. The one problem with this store was that they were always running out of stock, and the nearest store that probably had butter was a thirty minute walk.    You skidded into the dairy section and caught sight of the butter display. The only thing that was left was a small tub of unsalted butte

"...Wurst!" You then proceeded to the German pub/restaurant a few blocks east. Out of all of the restaurants in this city, this one had to be your favorite. You arrived at the double wooden doors of the restaurant and hopped in, the site greeting you a regular one. The dining room was fairly busy and the bar overall, full but even if it was busy, the place gave off a homey and kind of calm vibe. You waved at the hostess, who simply nodded and went on with what she was doing, and grabbed your usual seat. The owner, a quirky man who was obsessed with all things German noticed you and walked over. "Ah (f/n), great to see you again!" He cheered

 Arthur sat in his chair, watching his wife light the candles in the candelabra on the table next to him. ‘One, two..,’ he counted as she lit them, but he was easily distracted, for a moth had flit by the first candle and caught Arthur’s attention. ‘What silly beggars they are to blunder in and scorch their wings with glory, liquid flame… No! I must not think of that. It is bad to think of war.’ He knew it from experience. Arthur’s brother, Peter, had done nothing but think of the horrible experiences he had in his regiment and had gone insane. A family friend had found him outside one day talking to

Beer is mentioned a bit in here, even though it isnt the main focus of the story. “…Ice cream!” You love the frozen confection, and lucky you, there was an ice cream cart usually parked at the park across the street. You knew you had to act fast however. It was late afternoon, and with the heat index was hitting its peak and the cart would be sold out within minutes. You sprinted across the street to the tiny refrigerated cart and jumped in line, which was about ten people long. Bored and anxious you started examining the people waiting in line with you. Most of the people in line were pretty normal: a mom with a sobbing

“…Pizza!” Sadly, the only place to get pizza that was open was Pizza Hut, but you could deal with it. You drove your car and parked in the Pizza Hut parking lot and walked inside. The hostess sat you down in a booth next to one of the large group booths, which was occupied by a group of men. You already knew what you wanted so, to entertain yourself, you decided to listen to the group behind you’s conversation. “Und zhen I vas like, mein awesome five meters is so five meters long!” The Albino said in a thick German accent. He began to rant about his ‘awesome five meters’ until the blonde si

“…Pancakes!” The sweet, buttery, syrupiness was calling your name and so was the diner across town. You got in your car and drove about fifteen minutes to the diner, entertaining yourself by listening to Avril Lavigne on your iPod. You pulled into the diner parking lot, blaring The Best Damn Thing, and got out of the car just as the song was ending. “I’m the best damn thing that your eyes have ever seen!” You sang at the top of your lungs as you slammed the car door shut, officially finishing out the song. Looking around, you noticed the large amount of mothers and children staring at you, the mothers gi